


A Lonely Heart.

by Thorntonsheart



Category: North and South, Richard Armitage - Fandom, john Thornton - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Instant Attraction, Modern Setting, New Starts, Pining, Similar character traits, longing for love, rated m for mature themes later in story, single parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-01-10 06:10:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorntonsheart/pseuds/Thorntonsheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A modern day version of the Margaret and John Thornton story, from their first meeting, through the many trials and tribulations that their journey takes them on, until the final resolution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beads and baubles

John sat in the restaurant, a smile playing about his lips, watching the antics of the people sat at the table nearest to the window. Usually he would not have presumed to stare at a set of strangers but something about this merry little group had caught his attention. Three females sat at the window table, the light shining on their hair and faces, the warm brown of the woman's hair contrasting with the blonde and red hair of the girls. He wondered if these were the woman's daughters, he studied them for a long moment, his blue eyes half closed against the light, one strong hand supporting the weight of his head as he rested his chin upon it. Yes definitely her children, the family resemblance was obvious despite the variance in the hair colours, all had strong and determined chins, bright eloquent eyes and a certain way of tilting their heads as they spoke. The mother was laughing at something the red haired girl had said, it seemed the little one was quite the comedian as her sister also joined in with the happy laughter, seeing them so happy brought a small smile to his face but at the same time made his loneliness intensify.

John had a strong urge to walk over to this little group and join in with their laughter, there had been little time for it in his life recently and he somehow felt that this little family unit would help to bring it back. Fighting the temptation he lowered his eyes, focusing on the table in front of him, picking up his glass of wine he slowly sipped it, closing his eyes as he savoured the taste. Placing the glass back on the table he distractedly ran his long fingers around the rim, glancing once again at the little family he saw that the two girls had stood up, were the family leaving? He felt his heart sink at the idea of the family going, why should that thought fill him with such sadness? He did not know them, nor was he likely to. Admitting this to himself caused him to clench his other hand, the dull ache in his heart increasing, still he could not look away, it was like the woman was calling silently to him. Realising he was staring he tried to focus back on his meal but his appetite had gone, the sound of young voices close by causing him to raise his head again. The young girls were walking by his table, he suppressed a smile, they weren't leaving, just a trip to the bathroom! He could hear the elder girl teasing her sister, it seemed she did not appreciate having to accompany her, her mother had raised an independent young lady there! 

Once again his attention was drawn back to the mother, she was sat looking at her hands, seemingly studying them intently. He could see she was not in the first awkward flush of youth but rather the full blossom of womanhood. Taking advantage of her distraction he studied her, she was of a slim build and dressed simply but well, her clothes flattering her figure. His eyes were particularly drawn to a necklace she wore, it was of a simple Celtic design, very flattering to her skin and clothes, a simple loop with a long chain leading down. Allowing his eyes to trace the line of the necklace he realised that the chain ended just above the gentle swell of her breasts, swallowing back a sigh he allowed his eyes to linger a moment longer on her breasts before sweeping them back to her face and hair. Her rich brown hair was cut into a stylish bob, ending just above her shoulders, it had fallen forward to partially obscure her face. John found he was clasping his hands together as he fought the urge to go to her and tuck her hair behind her ear, he wanted to be able to study her face more closely. Allowing his mind to drift he saw himself going to her, gently tucking her hair behind her ear, moving his hand to her cheek before cradling her face and gently kissing her. What was wrong with him? Here he was a grown man having silly boyish fantasies. Shaking his head he tried once more to concentrate on his dinner. After pushing his food around on the plate for a few more moments he put his fork down with a sigh, it was no good, the more he tried not to think about her the more his thoughts returned to her, he had to admit he was very attracted to her, besotted almost. 

"Mr Thornton?"  
The sound of his name brought him out of his deep reverie with a jolt, he had not even noticed Emily approach his table.  
"Is there anything wrong with your dinner Sir?"  
John noted the concern in her voice and it brought a smile to his face, Emily had been the first person to serve him at the restaurant and she had now become his regular waitress, taking time and attention to ensure he enjoyed his time there.  
"Everything is delicious as usual Emily, I think I'm just a little distracted this evening."  
John did not notice the flush on Emily's cheeks or the way she gently shook her head as she walked away from his table. 

Once again John's gaze wandered back to the woman sat by the window, she was fascinating him. She was now looking past him to the back of the restaurant where her daughters had gone. John felt a heat creeping up his neck, had she noticed him staring? No, she seemed unaware of his attention. He returned to the study of her face, she had a small face with fine features and a determined chin that her daughters had inherited. Her eyes were large and clear but radiating such sadness that John thought she must be on the verge of tears, again he had to resist the temptation to go to her, wanting nothing more than to put his arms around her and comfort her, to take the sadness and worry away. He wondered what was causing her such heartache and if he could help somehow. Whilst still studying her he saw her face light up with a smile which caused John's breath to catch in his throat, the smile had changed her face from beautiful to exquisite. What had caused such a smile? John followed the direction of her eyes, her daughters were returning, he found himself smiling too, these little ones were cherished, they were obviously their mother's world. As they got closer to the table he saw their mother turn her head and pretend to look out of the window so they would not realise she had been worrying and anxiously waiting. A half smile crept across his lips, she was trying to give them their independence but still worried about them, he remembered his mother doing the same with him as a young boy. He hoped that these young girls would grow up to love their mum as strongly as he loved and respected his.

Walking by his table a small glittery purse dropped from the younger girl's pocket onto the floor. He expected the child to turn and pick it up but she seemed oblivious to her loss, suppressing his first temptation of calling out to her he realised that the perfect opportunity to meet this family had arisen. Leaving his table he walked to where the purse was, picking the purse up he realised that it looked ridiculously small in his large hands. As he walked towards their table he was aware that his heart was racing and his lips dry, concentrating on steadying his breathing he continued his long easy strides. Approaching the table he could hear the little girl crying and her mother comforting her, he paused momentarily, lost in the sound of her voice, the love and care in it obvious. He thought he could detect a soft southern accent, certainly not a Welsh one, perhaps she was another visitor to the area, as he was.  
"Don't cry sweetie I'm sure you only dropped it in the bathroom, why don't you go back and look? Bethan can help you."  
Taking the last few steps towards the table he cleared his throat and for a moment was lost for words as three pairs of expressive eyes were turned to him, nervously his empty hand rubbed at his stubbled jawline before remembering his purpose for approaching the table.  
"Excuse me young lady is this yours?" He said gently, sinking down onto his knees to be on the same level as the little girl. Her tear filled eyes moving from his face to the object he was holding out towards her.  
"Oh mummy!" She said, delight colouring her voice, her tears now forgotten. "This nice man has found my purse!" 

John turned to face the mother now, her sparkling blue eyes once again causing his breath to catch. His eyes travelled over the contours of her face, he wondered how one woman could be so enticing? His gaze settled briefly on her mouth as she spoke.  
"Thank you for returning Maria's purse, it only contains a few beads but is very precious to her, as everything is when you are five!"  
Her voice was polite and she was smiling at him, meeting his gaze despite her rushed words. He could feel the heat on his cheeks and was convinced she must be able to hear his heart pounding. Taking a steadying breath he explained how he had recovered the purse.  
"You're welcome, I noticed that she had dropped it as she walked by my table. I took the liberty of bringing it back to you."  
"Thank you, that's so very kind of you. I'm sorry we disturbed your dinner but you've made a little girl very happy."  
Her cheeks were darkening as she spoke, John wondered what had caused her to blush. He couldn't help but smile, it wasn't only the little girl who was happy. He was too. 

Taking a deep breath he held his hand out to her. "I'm John. Don't worry about my dinner. I'd finished anyway."  
It seemed like an eternity as he waited for her to take his hand. Finally she shook it - and he expelled the breath he hadn't even realised he was still holding.

"Margaret," she replied quietly. "My name is Margaret."


	2. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had very dark hair that at a distance had looked almost black, but now that the sunlight was playing through it, she could see a warm red hue. On the whole it was neatly styled but there was a flick on the crown that was sitting out of place. Clasping her hands firmly together she struggled to overcome the irrational temptation of wanting to smooth that piece of hair down, then to continue running her fingers through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge huge thanks to my Beta reader Charlotte Hawkins for helping me to find my flow and keep to the relevant point of view. Big squishy hugs for Michaela and Judit for continuing to listen and support my bizarre plot ideas and a special shout out to Lady Oakensheild for getting me started on this! 
> 
> Please feel free to share comments and kudos!

Looking across into John's eyes Margaret couldn't help noticing how blue they were - their intensity causing her to fidget nervously on her seat. For a moment she was utterly convinced that he could see right into her heart. Surprising herself she managed to ask in a calm voice;  
"Would you like to join us for a while? Maybe even sit down? You look very uncomfortable on your knees!"  
Her accompanying smile was both inviting and mischievous and elicited a smile from John in response. Realising that in his haste to introduce himself he had neglected to get up from his knees he blushed deeply and slowly stood. Trying to keep his movements controlled, he lowered himself into the empty chair next to her, tucking his long legs neatly beneath the table. 

Watching with a small smile of amusement as John sat down Margaret couldn't help but notice that tall as he was, he moved with an effortless masculine grace. His attention was immediately commandeered by Maria as she chatted to him about her beads, taking each tiny bead from her bag and displaying it proudly. Margaret was touched to see how genuinely interested he seemed - his body language was relaxed and open, his head tilted slightly to one side as he listened.  
"This, this one is my favourite because, because it's so pretty and the same colour as mummy's eyes, a sort of bluey-greeny. I found it in our new house! Mummy said it must be a good omen, what's an omen? And this one is my second favourite, it's a funny shape!" Giggling, Maria carried on chatting to him like she had known him from birth.  
John held the tiny bead between his finger and thumb. "It's a very funny shape." He agreed, carefully studying it, unaware that he was being studied too. 

Margaret had noticed him earlier when glancing around the restaurant. It was hard not to notice him, with his dark hair, handsome face and smart clothes immediately catching her attention. Throughout her meal she had been glancing across at him, unable to stop herself, it was almost as if there was a magnetic pull to him that only she could sense. When the girls had gone to the bathroom she had glanced at him again, watching as he pushed his food idly around his plate. She had noticed that he had long, elegant hands. Was he a musician of some sort, she wondered? She just had time to register the fact that despite being slim he seemed to be of a muscular build before a waitress had captured his attention making him look up. Quickly she had moved her glance to look beyond him, towards where the girls had gone, but not before she had noticed his smile. It had been beautiful. 

Now that he was sat so close to her and his attention captured elsewhere, she continued her study of him. For a reason that she was unwilling to admit to herself, she wanted to commit his image to memory. He had very dark hair that at a distance had looked almost black, but now that the sunlight was playing through it, she could see a warm red hue. On the whole it was neatly styled but there was a little flick on the crown that was sitting out of place. Clasping her hands firmly together she struggled to overcome the irrational temptation of wanting to smooth that piece of hair down, then to continue running her fingers through it. It wasn't helping her that she could see how his hair had a natural wave running through it, little curls forming at the nape of his neck. Dragging her gaze away from the tempting curls she studied his face. His skin was fair and slightly freckled with a few darker moles here and there, one mole was positioned just under a strong, lightly stubbled jawline. Her eyes widened at the thought of kissing that mole. Blushing deeply she forced herself to continue her perusal of his features. His blue eyes were currently surprisingly soft as he listened to Maria, the lines about them showing more deeply as he smiled, adding character rather than age to his face. A long but finely shaped nose was perfectly positioned above a pair of thin, but sensitive looking lips, the lower lip being slightly fuller. Once again her thoughts returned to kissing, this time along the firm jaw onto the receptive lips. Mortified she forced her gaze away. She had never had these thoughts before for someone who was essentially a stranger. Her attention was drawn back to him again as she heard Bethan chatting to him too.  
"Maria will talk for hours if you let her, " she said, her voice that of an exasperated older sister. "But she's kind of cute with it!"  
John's surprisingly deep chuckle joined in with the childish laughter. Usually Bethan took much longer to talk to new people, but it seemed that John's gentleness had gained both of her daughters' trust. 

"It's ok, " he replied. "I really don't mind. I've never seen a finer collection of beads in my life!" 

A cheeky half smile crossed his face as he glanced towards Margaret. Immediately she felt herself blushing and had to work to meet his glance. She decided at that moment that he was a beautiful man. She'd never realised that a man could be beautiful before, but John had a very masculine beauty that radiated from within him. 

While his attention was back with the children she studied him again, noting that his clothes accentuated this masculine beauty. She saw that his suit was probably tailor made for him, the dark blue suit jacket sitting well upon his broad shoulders, tapering into his waist. Currently the jacket was hanging open, allowing her to see the mid blue shirt beneath. It was of the best cut, sitting flat against his chest without pulling at the buttons and without being loose over a flat stomach. A patterned blue and green tie lay loosely tied at his collar and the first button of his shirt was undone, allowing her to appreciate the long sweep of his elegant neck. Her eyes drifted down the line of shirt buttons until finally coming to rest on the waistband of his trousers. Flushing she forced her eyes over to his legs, the trousers fitted well allowing her to see the outline of long, lean, muscular legs, the material hugging tighter across his thighs. Briefly her eyes swept across his lap, her cheeks flaming at how the material accentuated his maleness. Guiltily she fixed her gaze back on the table in front of her, working hard on calming her breathing and heart rate.

Suddenly she started, realising that John had just spoken to her.  
"Margaret? I was just asking if you had enjoyed your meal?"  
She blushed deeply, her pulse still racing, her thoughts in a whirl from her study of him.  
" Yes it was lovely. Today's a special treat, we've just moved here and thought we'd spoil ourselves before unpacking...."  
Stopping suddenly, she realised she was probably doing a great impression of a blathering idiot. She doubted very much that this beautiful man was interested in her life or her problems. She was positive he'd only stayed at the table out of politeness. What other attraction could there be?  
"We really must be getting home," she said. She turned to Bethan. "Would you go and ask for the bill?" 

***************

John was confused as he watched Bethan walk over to the waitress. As he heard her ask for the bill, he couldn't help but admire her confidence and willingness to help her mother. He looked again towards Margaret, who was bustling about as she paid the bill and checked to see that the children had all their stuff. He noticed that she avoided meeting his eye, and although he was certain it was unintentional, it hurt him deeply. In a blur of hurried goodbyes and "nice to meet yous," they were gone. Rising slowly from the table he watched the small group walking across the now dark plaza, a sad smile playing on his features. When he could no longer see them he returned to his own table to gather his belongings. Before long Emily came over.  
"Mr Thornton? Can I get you anything further? A coffee perhaps? "  
He shook his head. "No thankyou Emily, I think perhaps it's time for me to call it a night. Emily, do you know who that family were?"  
Smiling Emily answered. "That's Margaret Lennox and her daughters."

John left the restaurant moments later, leaving a generous tip for Maria and a friendly farewell for the other members of the staff. The night was cool but not cold and a soft breeze tousled his hair. In no rush to get back to his apartment, he walked over to the ornate fencing around the water's edge. Staring across Cardiff Bay his eyes focusing on nothing, he tried hard not to think about Margaret. Instead he replayed his time with the children. They were so friendly and trusting, reminding him of his nephew. Maria's innocent joy over her beads had been contagious and he had found himself smiling more than he had done in months. He had honestly enjoyed looking at her beads, much to Bethan's amazement. Bethan's disinterest with her sister's joy had only been an act, becoming blatantly obvious when she had confided that she thought her little sister was cute, causing him to chuckle. She seemed so old for her years but must have only been nine or ten at most. He hoped that she had plenty of time to be silly too, for he knew how hard it was to have to grow up too quickly. 

Sighing, he turned away from the water and walked slowly towards his apartment. Even after all these years he still missed his father. He had died when John had been about Bethan's age. John had discovered by chance that his father had actually committed suicide over some large debts rather than in a mysterious accident. From that moment on he had taken on the mantle of man of the house. His mother had been strong and supportive and he remembered that he wanted to be as strong as her. He recalled how he had gone through all his toys and books and sold them, keeping only a few books back, and the money he had raised he had given to his mother. He had grown to adult height young and was able to lie about his age getting paper rounds, once again giving the money to his mother. The early mornings and late nights had affected his school work and he had left with only mediocre qualifications, but he hadn't been worried by this. He knew that he had supported his family through a hard time and that he could make a success of his future whatever he decided to do.


	3. Introspection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Margaret both think over their chance meeting. Strong emotions are stirred and misunderstandings are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very slight mature content (if you squint!) Once again huge thanks to Charlotte Hawkins for being my wonderful Beta! Again huge love and hugs for Michaela, Judit and Bec for putting up with and fully supporting the madness the led up to this!

Upon entering his apartment John blindly carried out his evening routine; putting his keys on the table by the door, hanging his jacket up, sorting through that day's post, anything to put off thinking about Margaret. Realising that his avoidance technique was not going to work much longer he poured himself a scotch and walked out onto his balcony. Resting his free hand against the rail he drew a deep breath, closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, opening them he looked across the view before him. His view across Cardiff Bay was breath taking, the lights reflecting on the wind kissed water twinkling gently. This view usually eased his often troubled mind, but tonight he found it offered no solace for either his heart or mind. Slowly sipping his drink, savouring its spicy warmth as it travelled down his throat, he allowed himself to think about the events of the evening. 

He barely noticed the cool wind on his skin, his brow deeply furrowed, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. His thoughts were now with Margaret and her children. Why she had decided to leave so quickly? He had thought that the meeting was going well when, suddenly, she had made excuses and left. The girls, Maria and Bethan, had been chatting away to him like an old friend, their natural defences lowered because of his earlier kindness. He'd had no real chance to speak with Margaret but had felt strangely comforted by being close to her. It felt oddly familiar. Obviously, she had not felt that same sense of comfort. He recalled that he had chatted with the girls for a long time and when they had started to talk about their dinner, it had seemed like the ideal opportunity to involve her. He had turned to her to see her attention was riveted to the table, her body language closed and her face flushed. He'd had to ask her twice if she had enjoyed her dinner, the first time he had no sign that she had even heard. She had visibly started at being spoken to on the second asking and then seemed very uncomfortable with his presence. Massaging a tense muscle in his neck he wondered if perhaps he had scared them away in their eagerness to know them. Perhaps he had overstepped a boundary in his friendliness to the little ones, but it had reminded him so strongly of the time he used to spend with his nephew. Soon after his question to Margaret, the family had left. The girls had done what their mother had told them to do but had seemed sad to be going so quickly. Their mother just seemed extremely distracted and although she had thanked him again for returning the purse, she had avoided looking directly at him. He could clearly visualise the little group walking away from him and again he felt the loneliness welling up within him.

Passing a hand over his face, he tried to brush the feeling away and finished the last of his drink. He briefly thought about having another one but knew that drowning his emotions in drink was not going to help him. He didn't relish the idea of going to bed but he knew he had a long day in the office the next day, he needed to get some sleep so he could be clear headed and proactive. Rinsing the glass under the tap and placing it on the draining board, he made his way to his bedroom. The room was simply decorated in warm cream and burgundy tones. Books filled a handsome oak bookshelf and a king size bed was set centrally from the back wall. Wearily he sat on the end of his bed, pulling his tie of with one hand and dropping it over a bed post before opening a couple more buttons of his shirt. Once more his thoughts returned to Margaret. He'd encountered beautiful, well educated women ever since his business had become a success but she was so much than these often vacuous women. Throwing himself back onto his bed he covered his face with both hands, trying but failing to blot out visions of her. Her smiling face, her care towards her children. The way she studied her hands and the gentle swell of her breasts. Pressing his hands tighter over his eyes he groaned as more images came, each more suggestive than the last, an undone blouse, a lingering kiss, a passionate embrace. He could feel his body responding to these images, his breath quickening, his heart pounding and his body hardening. With a frustrated moan he rolled onto his stomach, trying again to blot out the images. It was going to be a long night. 

Sometime later he awoke, unrested and frustrated. He realised that at some point during the night he had removed his remaining clothing and climbed into bed, but he had no recollection of doing so. His only memories of last night were dreams of Margaret. Those dreams had caused him to thrash about and he now felt cold and clammy from the fine sheen of sweat that covered his body. His night had been spent alternating between bouts of wakefulness and disturbing dreams of Margaret. At least during the time awake he had been able to try and control his thoughts, minimising the impact, but his traitorous body had needed sleep and with that sleep had come dreams. His dreams had complete control of his emotions whilst he slept, his dream self was always nervous to the point of feeling ill. As had happened in reality he offered his hand out to Margaret, but in his dreams she hadn't accepted it. She had laughed callously in his face, her innocent beauty stained by her glee, his hand remained unshaken but still held out. Time and time again the dream repeated itself - her refusal, her laughter and his broken heart. 

He thought that if he analysed his dreams he would be able to find out why both dream Margaret and real life Margaret had such a powerful effect on his heart. Once he knew why, he believed he'd be able to return to his normal life, free of thoughts of Margaret. Laying back on his pillows, one arm behind his head, he closed his eyes and allowed the images return. As in real life, his dream Margaret was beautiful, her hair shone richly in the sunlight, multiple shades of warm brown that had made him want to explore her hair further, to run his fingers through its lustrous length. Her lips were full and resting gently together, crying out for a kiss, her skin a pale ivory and unblemished, but as he thought of her eyes he again felt anxious. In reality her eyes had been a warm blue-green colour, expressive of every emotion she felt, welcoming when she smiled, but in his dream her eyes were cold, their only expression had been one of cruelty. Not the eyes of his Margaret. A brief mocking smile played over his lips. His Margaret indeed. On that point his dreams had been very truthful. She was not his Margaret, nor was she ever going to be. For all he knew she was someone else's Margaret. The more he thought about this the more he realised that it was probably true. She was beautiful and appeared to be loyal, loving and friendly to those who mattered to her. 

He slowly ran his hands down the length of his face in an effort to clear the last lingering images away. So much for examining his dreams in an unemotional and logical manner, the realisation hit him that when it came to Margaret, he would never be unemotional. He could not stop the thoughts of her coming. He'd met her only once and it was very unlikely he'd meet her again but he knew that more than anything, he wanted her to become his Margaret. Shaking his head, he rose from the bed John and crossed the floor to the bathroom. He would overcome this foolish passion for her.

*********************

Margaret awoke to find two small bodies cuddled up to her. Maria and Bethan had been nervous spending their first night in their new bedrooms and had come to her in the early hours of the morning. Margaret knew that she should have taken them back to their own rooms and tucked them both back in their beds whilst uttering comforting words, but she also knew how lonely and lost she was feeling in this new house and welcomed the company. The girls had both wriggled when first crawling under the covers but were soon both asleep, the sound of their gentle breathing and the warmth of their hands against her arms soon lulling Margaret into a deep and peaceful sleep. Both children were still sleeping soundly and Margaret smiled to see them so relaxed, lightly kissing each girl on the forehead she slipped silently from her bed and crept slowly down the stairs.

Margaret immediately went into the kitchen. Amongst the first things she had unpacked had been a kettle, a mug with "Number 1 Mummy" on the side and some coffee. She quickly went through the motions of making a coffee, deliberately keeping her mind blank. She had perfected this skill during the last few years of her marriage to Henry, for it had allowed her to cope with her unhappiness and emptiness. Once equipped with a strong coffee Margaret allowed herself to look around at the many packing boxes, most were in the wrong rooms or half emptied. It was going to be a long day. Grasping her hair in both hands, she tied it into a loose ponytail. With a sigh she walked to the first box and began in earnest to make a home for herself and her two children. Whilst working, she allowed herself time to think about her encounter the day before. She had seen how well John had got on with the children. It obviously came easily to him. Did that mean he had children of his own? Was he married? Of course he is, Margaret thought crossly. Why wouldn't he be? He was handsome, well educated, and obviously kind and thoughtful. But there was still so much more to him than these qualities - something deeper that called out to her from deep within him. This thought made her pause in her task and try to identify this elusive characteristic.

She tried again to think of each feature separately, thinking that this might aid her discovery of the elusive quality. His hair was dark and soft looking, his face telling the story of a life well lived - laughter lines at the edge of storm blue eyes, a slight furrow between his brows giving him the air of a man used to deep thought. A long straight nose, firm lips - thin but perfectly formed. His chin was angular but strangely soft, and covered in a dark but neat stubble. He was tall - much taller than she had initially realised. His build was slim but powerful, and he had a pair of hands that spoke as much as he did. Despite taking him a feature at a time, Margaret did not succeed in finding the elusive final element. Looking down, she realised that in her musings she had stopped sorting and had let her coffee go cold. She knew she needed to put the thoughts of this man far behind her. She did not need any complications in her life, and the attraction she had felt towards him proved that he could become such a complication. She blushed at the memory of feeling his large hand briefly round hers as they shook hands, and the thrill of excitement that it had sent down her spine. She had then found herself speaking nonsense in an attempt to hide her attraction and in the resulting embarrassment, she was sure that he had noticed her deep blushes. How could he not have done? This handsome man must have been very used to women blushing before his penetrating gaze. The awareness of her immediate and powerful attraction had led her to leave the restaurant quickly, but not before she had seen the hurt in his eyes. Seeing the pain in his eyes had almost made her turn back, but she knew that her girls were her number one priority and so had continued on her way, her heart in turmoil. Her only comfort had been that she was unlikely to see him again.


	4. What maketh a man.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tries desperately to clear his head of Margaret. Some of John's history is discovered. Rated mature for daydreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra special thankyou to my beta reader, Charlotte Hawkins, today. RL has been getting in the way and she has done a remarkable job at getting this turned round and ready for me to publish!  
> As always squishy hugs to Michaela, Judit and Bec for their continued support of my mad ideas! 
> 
> For those who are wondering The Big Issue is a magazine sold by licensed vendors. It allows homeless people to raise money to support themselves.

John felt physically refreshed after a long invigorating shower but his mind was still full of images of Margaret. He had stayed under the water until his skin had turned red and sensitive from the heat. Finally he stepped from the shower and allowed the cool air of the bathroom to caress his skin, raising goose pimples. Sighing he reached for a towel and used it to clear the mirror before wrapping the deep burgundy cloth around his hips. Rubbing his shaving brush into the soap he tried to focus on the foam being raised but visions of Margaret haunted his thoughts. He applied the soap to his face, trying not to be too forceful. He filled a sink with warm water, wetting his razor in the running water. Tipping his face slightly he allowed the razor to glide over his skin, savouring the slight sensation of friction. On each rinse of the razor his mind drifted back to Margaret. Her soft hair enticing and her eyes welcoming. Wiping the remaining soap away he filled the sink with cold water before thoroughly soaking his face, the icy water momentarily tearing him away from his thoughts. Whilst brushing his teeth he found his thoughts returning to her. Would she be up yet? Finally he walked back through to the bedroom where he got dressed with care, pale blue shirt, burgundy tie, dark blue suit. 

As he ate his breakfast, John allowed the image of Margaret to flow through his mind. Her hair all tousled from sleep, pottering about the kitchen (that looked strangely like his own.) Preparing breakfast for the girls, all the time chatting to a fourth person who was not visible to him. Would she be kissing her husband good morning? At the thought of a husband John angrily thrust his breakfast plate away and walked to the door of his apartment. Grabbing his jacket and keys he shook his head angrily, trying to rid his mind of the lingering picture of Margaret's upturned face awaiting a loving kiss from someone else.

His office was only a few miles away and the weather appeared to be pleasant. Rather than using his driver, he had decided to walk - thinking the fresh air might help him to clear his mind. He called Peter on his mobile and explained that he wouldn't be needed until the evening. John still felt very self conscious about having a driver, but his PA had explained that he needed to be seen to be a man of influence. He didn't like this at all. An agreement had been reached but under his own terms, he got to choose the driver. He had met Peter when coming home from work very late one evening. Peter had been sheltering in a shop doorway asking people to buy his last copy of The Big Issue. John had bought it, and then on impulse gone into a coffee shop and bought Peter a coffee. They had chatted briefly, mostly about the appalling weather. This continued for a couple of weeks, John would buy the new release of The Big Issue and buy Peter a coffee. 

Gradually he found out that Peter had lost his home when his wife had left him - that he'd fallen apart physically and emotionally but was now pulling himself back together. He'd been selling The Big Issue for a few years, gradually putting money by so he could start again. John had been impressed by Peter's dedication and spirit and had asked him if he would work for him as a driver. At first Peter had been affronted, he didn't want sympathy he was willing to work himself out of the problems he faced, gradually John was able to convince him that he wasn't doing Peter a favour. It was the other way round. He needed someone he could rely on - someone he could trust implicitly and who would put up with all of John's varying moods. A bargain was struck and John was able to find some affordable housing for Peter that his work as a chauffeur subsidised. 

Pulling the door shut behind him John quickly crossed to the lift, his face set in a deep frown, his  
blue eyes troubled. Even thinking of the friendship he had with Peter and the difference they had made to each other's dull lives could not lift his spirits. Upon seeing a young child waiting for the lift with their mother, his face softened and a small smile blessed his features. Both the child and mother returned his mumbled greeting, their shy smiles making his heart a little lighter. He thought of his sister and her family,realising that he had not seen them in a very long time. He decided it was time to phone her and make an arrangement to see them all. His nephew was nearly four years old now and a bundle of mischievous fun. 

As he left the building, John stopped and took a deep breath of the fresh early morning air. The weather was still mild but it held the promise of a beautiful spring day. Setting out at a brisk pace along Lloyd George Avenue, he enjoyed the quietness of the early hour. Before long his thoughts had returned to Margaret. He found himself imagining sharing his daily life with her - waking up next to her, sharing a comfortable breakfast. She would be helping him to choose what he could wear. Other thoughts drifted into his mind - thoughts of other moments they could share together. He saw her standing in the open doorway to his balcony, her back turned him, a gentle breeze moving her hair and her clothing. He swallowed hard at this image. It was so real he could almost feel her presence. He could smell her perfume. He imagined walking towards her and wrapping her in his arms, and in response she would rest her head back against his chest, letting go of a soft sigh. He allowed the daydream to unfurl; he was kissing her hair, bending slightly so he was able to press kisses onto her neck, along her shoulders, moving one hand from her body to gently slide the loose material of her top over her shoulder, following it with more kisses. His tongue tracing light patterns on her skin, he could feel her breathing quicken and match his own. Losing himself in the dream further John could feel himself harden in response. He envisaged moving his other hand so that he was lightly caressing her breast and he smiled at the small gasps Margaret would make. He allowed himself to picture Margaret moving her hand from the front of her body round to touch his hips, trailing her fingers across until she found his growing erection, her hand stroking firmly along its length. 

Suddenly John's eyes focussed again and he realised he was standing outside his office building. He had never been so disappointed to arrive at work. He ran both his hands over his face in an effort to clear the last lingering wisps of the dream from his mind. On doing so he realised how warm his cheeks were and that his body was still responding in other more embarrassing ways. With a wry half smile John decided that he needed a brisk walk around the office block to regain control over his body and thoughts. 

*************

He threw himself into his work that morning. He was never one to shirk any tasks but he took extra pleasure in being busy this time. He needed to keep busy to stop his thoughts straying back to Margaret. He worked diligently, his shirt sleeves folded slightly back to allow him ease of movement. He had worked hard to make his business a success. It had begun in a very modest way, his friend Miles had been experiencing problems with his business and had asked John for his advice. John had been able to view how the business worked, what its assets were and where the losses had been. He had drawn up a business plan that outlined to Miles how the business could be streamlined and made to run more efficiently, within a year Miles' business was running at a healthy profit and John was being recommended everywhere as a miracle worker, someone to turn businesses around. He never found himself short of work. Too many businesses were suffering because of the economic slump and were willing to invest in outside expert advice in an attempt to survive. His business had rapidly expanded allowing him to purchase offices and hire staff. Within five years Thornton Industries was multi national with offices and staff worldwide. John no longer needed to work. He had made enough money to be independently wealthy and he had a trusted staff, Nicholas Higgins being the most trusted of them all, but he just could not make the break and leave the daily running of it to others.

After working uninterrupted for a few hours, he thought he would reward himself with a short walk and break. Leaving his suit jacket on the chair behind him he left the office, his feet automatically taking the path back to Cardiff Bay. He was grateful he worked in such a beautiful place, he was always stunned by the beauty of it, so different from his boyhood home. Here there were rolling hillsides, free of industry, covered in lush green grass, trees and heather. Industry had left its mark in other parts of Wales but Cardiff Bay was stunning, an oasis of calm even when bustling with activity. The old port had been turned into a freshwater bay, the old ship docks now a place of calm beauty. His boyhood home although beautiful was somehow more grey in his memory, with less natural beauty. Its beauty came from the buildings left in memory of the endeavours of his ancestors, men who had worked hard and made their own fortunes, disregarding the contempt of those born to society and money. 

He gazed out across the expanse of gently rippling water, noting how the sunlight sent little flashes of light shimmering on its surface. He lifted his face towards the sun and allowed the beams to gently caress his skin, smiling slightly he felt the tension finally begin to leave his body. Suddenly he felt his muscles stiffen again. He saw someone standing at the water's edge. He felt the heat rush to his face and his fists clenched in attempt to regain control as memories of his earlier fantasy came flooding back. His eyes were fixed on a familiar figure in the distance. 

Could that be Margaret?


	5. Family ties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She looked fondly at a photograph she had put on the otherwise empty mantlepiece. It showed two young girls, one dark haired, one blonde, with their arms wrapped around each other smiling broadly. She and Edith had practically grown up together and it was only on the event of her marriage that their friendship had faltered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge huge apologies! I got tangled up in the story and couldn't see the wood for the trees! I know it has been ages and I would love to update more regularly, I promise to try!   
> I have had more luck writing in the Sherlock fandom and that seems to have cleared my mind enough to come back to this story!

Margaret had worked diligently for about an hour when the sound of small feet on the stairs made her stop her unpacking. Keeping her back turned firmly turned towards the door, she could hear Maria and Bethan whispering and giggling and knew they were plotting some sort of mischief. Within moments she felt two sets of small hands trying to tickle her, feigning surprise and turning quickly she wrapped an arm around each giggling little girl, pulling them into her for a group hug. It made her happy to see her girls so carefree, their faces bathed in light hearted smiles, still giggling softly. Only three short years ago the girls had had little to be happy about.

Margaret studied each girl in turn. Bethan was nearly eight and old for her years, she had had to grow up too quickly during her parents unhappy marriage. She had helped her mum around the house and with Maria, she had been perceptive enough to see the unhappiness in her mother's eyes even though Margaret had tried so hard to hide it. Maria had just turned five years old and had always tried to cheer everyone up with her mischievous sense of fun, often even when she felt like crying. Margaret knew she had been blessed with two kind hearted, wonderful children and as such her marriage to Henry could never be considered a mistake. Looking now at her daughters she was pleased to see their worries had gone, they were children once more. Giggling with their hair still messy from sleep the girls and their mother collapsed in a heap of cuddles and sweet kisses.

Reluctantly she eased herself out of the group hug. "Shall we see if we can find some food to have for breakfast girls, or shall we be naughty and eat out?"

"Eat out!" Chorused the happy sisters.

"Go and find something to wear then and remember to brush your hair!" She called as the girls ran out of the room. 

She watched them run back up the stairs with a happy heart. Their move to Wales was a good idea, away from the hustle and bustle of London the girls would soon recapture their childhood and all the fresh air would be excellent for them. The fact that she was now closer to her cousin, Edith, just added to the attraction.

She looked fondly at a photograph she had put on the otherwise empty mantlepiece. It showed two young girls, one dark haired, one blonde, with their arms wrapped around each other smiling broadly. She and Edith had practically grown up together and it was only on the event of her marriage that their friendship had faltered. 

***********

Initially Edith had adored the idea of Henry marrying Margaret but as she had seen them more and more together she had begun to realise how poorly matched they were. Margaret had been a bright and bubbly girl, universally kind and well loved. Henry had been serious, studious and quick to temper. Edith had hoped that Margaret would encourage the fun side of Henry to emerge but instead she had become more and more distant, isolating herself from her friends and relatives. When Edith had discussed with her how she felt and what she could see happening Margaret had asked her to leave. Edith had been devastated and Margaret could still picture the hurt in her blue eyes. It had taken her months after the break down of her marriage to approach Edith and apologise. They had cried in each others arms for hours, later they had made plans to get Margaret and the girls out of the house and to start divorce proceedings. Tenderly replacing the photograph she stroked the faces of the carefree girls pictured. Turning she searched around the messy room until she found her mobile phone, sending a quick text, before looking around at the tumble of boxes and bric-a-brac that she hoped to arrange to make a home.

Returning to the kitchen Margaret knew she had a while before the girls would be ready and decided to scrub the cupboards and sides ready for unpacking. She felt so relaxed that she allowed herself to think of John. He seemed so nice, and in many ways she felt like she had known him before. Physically he was quite different from Henry. Henry had been of average height and build, brown eyed and brown haired, whereas there seemed to be nothing average about John. He was tall, dark and good looking - the exact kind of man that fortune tellers of old would predict for lonely women to meet. She briefly wondered if he could be her tall, dark stranger but then laughed aloud at the idea. 

"Mummy what's so funny?" 

Surprised out of her revery she turned to see her daughters dressed and ready to go out. "Nothing really Bethan, I had just seen how fluffy your hair looks!"

"I'm not the only one mummy! Your hair has gone all curly on the bits that have escaped from your ponytail."

Margaret lifted one hand up to her hair and could feel the curls that formed around her face and fell softly down her neck. "Well I better hope I don't meet Prince Charming today then!"

"I think you look beautiful mummy." Maria said, looking at her seriously.

Another half an hour saw them sat in a cafe back in Cardiff Bay. Margaret watched as Maria and Bethan nibbled at their second breakfast croissant. 

"Would you like to spend some time with Edith today?" She asked her daughters, picking at the croissant in front of her with her fingers.

"Yes please mummy!" Maria eagerly answered.

"But won't you need us helping with the unpacking mummy? I could do such a lot." Bethan replied, looking at her mum with worried eyes. 

"I know you can Bethan, but I think you'd have much more fun with Edith and she hasn't seen you in ages, and Sholto has been missing you too."

*****************

Upon finally finishing their breakfast Margaret led the girls back out into the sunshine. A small breeze had picked up and she savoured the sensation of it gently caressing her skin, lifting the loose curly tendrils of hair from her skin. Feeling suddenly invigorated Margaret grabbed a tiny hand in each of her hands and darted forward, running lightly into the wind, giggling with her daughters, before spinning them into a circle and skipping with them. 

"Mummy!" Bethan was giggling so hard her eyes were watering. "You're being very silly!"

"I am! Isn't it wonderful!" Margaret felt so free at that moment, no cards, no worries, the most important people in the world holding her hands and looking up at her with utter love and trust. Surely she needed nothing more than this? 

"Edith!" Maria's delighted exclamation was high pitched as she suddenly let go of her mum's hand and ran at full speed towards a petite blonde lady. Bethan looked at Margaret for permission before running after her sister towards the lady who now had Emily wrapped in a hug. 

"Margaret. I'm so glad you texted me, I've missed you." Edith held Margaret in a long embrace before releasing her, studying her intently, looking for signs of tiredness no doubt. "Max and Sholto are back at the house, they wanted to come but Sholto needed his nap." 

"Thanks for offering to take my little monsters Edith." Margaret's voice was affectionate, her hands busy ruffling her daughters hair. "Remember you have my permission to paint them purple if they are naughty!"

"Mummy, we are never naughty!" Maria's eyes were wide with pretended innocence as the two adults smiled at her fondly.

"Ok, maybe not totally purple then ...... Spots instead!" Squatting down Margaret took the girls into her arms, kissing their hair lightly. "Be good for Edith, ok? Do what Max asks you to and look after Sholto. I'll come and get you later. Now go and have fun! I love you both."

"We'll be good mummy, love you too." Bethan's eyes were serious now. "Are you sure I can't help?"

"I'll be fine sweetie, go and have fun."

"I'll look after them Margaret, don't worry. Wave goodbye girls." Margaret watched as the girls skipped happily away with Edith, the trio waving briefly.

Taking a deep breath Margaret turned back to face the water. She always missed her girls when they weren't with her but today she knew they were in good hands, sighing she rested her arms on the rail in front of her. The sunlight was beautifully calming where it reflected on the water and relaxing where it caressed her skin, the breeze tousling her hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to so many! To michaela, Bec and Judit for sticking with me through it all, encouraging me through the silliness! To my neighbours for believing and to Charlotte for encouraging me and tweaking it to make it work! I love you all!


End file.
